The Yoke eBook

Meneptah frowned with perplexity. But while
he pondered, Ta-user drew near to him and said to
him very softly:

“If his words be true, O my Sovereign, one lovely
Israelite is as serviceable as another. The
young man loves this maiden. Doubt it not!
He is a worthy off-spring of that noble sire, Mentu.
If he offended, he hath suffered sufficiently.
Let him go, I pray thee.”

“It is my word against her surmises, O Meneptah,”
Har-hat insisted.

The king frowned more and stroked his cheek.

“Thine anger should be abated by this time,
Har-hat,” he said feebly.

“His rebellion is not yet broken. I have
not the slave yet,” the fan-bearer retorted.

“Mayhap he is ready to surrender her now.”

“Not so!” the princess put in. “He
hath endured eight months. If it were eight
hundred years his silence would be the same.
It is proof of my boast that he loves her. No
man who would comfort his flesh alone would suffer
such lengths of mortification of flesh! Let him
go, my King, and give the clean-souled fan-bearer
another Israelite for his daughter.”

“Why camest thou not sooner with this to the
king?” Har-hat demanded.

“I have but this moment learned of it, and I
could not leave the court without one last act for
the good of the oppressed,” she replied.

“Have it thy way, Ta-user. Come to me
in an hour,” Meneptah began.

“Nay, write it now.”

“Thou art insistent.”

“Thou didst promise,” she whispered, her
face so close to his that the light from the facets
of her emeralds turned on his cheek.

He took up his pen and wrote.

“Now promise that the signet shall go back to
Mentu,” she continued.

“As thou wilt, Ta-user,” the king replied.

She caught up the roll, hesitated for a moment, and
then kissed his cheek deliberately and was gone.

A moment later Har-hat overtook her in the hall.

“Hyena!” he exclaimed. “What
is thy game?”

She laughed and shook the scroll in his face.

“It is my turn at the pawns now. Thou
didst play between me and the crown. Now I shall
harass thee for the joy of it. Thinkest thou
I cared aught for the dreamer and his loves?
Bah! I heard this tale eight months agone while
I had naught to do but eavesdrop. Nay, it was
but my one chance to vex thee.”

Again she laughed and ran away to the queen’s
apartments.

“I am come to bid thee farewell,” she
said, kneeling before the pale little woman who loved
the king. The princess put up her face to be
kissed.

“Not my lips!” she cried warningly.
“They yet tingle with the kiss of Meneptah,
thy husband. I would not have the ecstasy spoiled
by another’s touch.”

The queen flushed and kissed the cheek.

“Farewell, and peace go with thee,” she
said quietly.

The princess retained her composure until she reentered
the hall. There she flung her arms above her
head and laughed silently.